Poetry

ignorance

can be yourself don’t bottle up the body, keep it open. when all self-identifications remain get rid of god. no self-definition, i am energy and bring nothing reality here, can i demand nothing when you want nothing, seek nothing expect nothing unexpected! a man engrossed prescribed by his scriptures will get wrapped up in them …

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god be sitting on a fence

god be sitting on a fence up the road i saw him peering at the traffic passing by then he wandered over to the tobacco shop said something to the barelegged boy leaning on the countertop adjusted his spandex shorts and left

no glory

so i lay there playing with splinters in the late red afternoon the angels of paradise hidden in the mystery of my days leaning on warm wings sang to me sticks lie broken dead leaves gather dust i am homesick here in the ashes all i wanted was glory found only strange sadness instead

night’s leaves

on a pristine october afternoon i applied for a job begging at the ports all for the sake of feeling my way against the ghost of your truth my lies limed and loaded flowed easy riding the night’s last flicker of hope i was young i tried to capture you with rhymes and exotic suggestions …

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rapture

on the radio the buzzing world whistling blowers moan the clack of balls clicking so well straining a high thin monkey woman begging for rapture

ant-people, something has happened – the remix

Best experienced through headphones…  ant-people, something has happened that’s made me question the nature of my reality, a thread to follow… the point of intersection between the human mind and suppression. i don’t think you will ever see me again. i achieved what i was incapable of. the time wave, i sent it. the …

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before the beginning

in the moment she answered formless in-between states of grief shadows dancing underneath her eyes she did not recognise me darkness dull and desperate before the beginning began i caught myself staring like a chimp caught humping another chimp, never would i be better imitating the ways of the master not to create but to …

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vapour and dust

and then it made sense to me i stood witlessly fumbling the key to endless happiness she sat on the bed with her hands clenched, ‘i will help you hold the hatred, spread it over the fields black and foul and what will you do for me?’ i will give you another life layered in …

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